Fool
by nyakattia
Summary: You look like you got something you wanna talk about. Flack and Stella find out what Danny did in Right Next Door. StellaFlack friendship. Warning! Contains much swearing.


He heard the smashing of glass as he stepped out into the back alleyway of the bar. Danny was sitting on his heels in the gutter, the glass shards of the bottle glinting in the harsh overhead light.

"Dan?" he called.

The other man sprung up like a jack in the box, repressed energy written in his movements. When their eyes met, he looked away, licking his lips nervously.

"What d'ya want, Flack?"

Flack frowned, moving forward calmly in predictable motions, just like he'd been taught. "What'd the bottle ever do to you, Messer?" he asked with a forced grin, injecting humor into his voice.

"Look, I'm not in the mood, alright?" The other man turned away, kicking idly at a chain link fence that split the alley in half.

"Hey, we're just talking here."

Danny shrugged. "You're the one doin' all the talkin'."

"I dunno Dan," Flack said. He had been watching his friend all night as he stared into his beer, ignoring the rest of the group- including one Lindsay Monroe. "You look like you got something you want to talk about."

He shrugged again, ran a hand through his hair. "I got nothin'."

"You sure about that?" Flack asked, stopping only a few feet away. "You've barely even looked at Linds tonight."

He watched as Danny winced at the mention of his girlfriend. "I-"

Flack waited a beat. "You what?"

"I... slept with Rikki." He turned away, kicking at the fence again.

Flack's mouth dropped open. "You did what?"

"You heard." The reply was sullen.

"Rikki? As in Rikki Sandoval- who tried to kill a guy last month?" His voice raised in volume, incredulous.

Danny's eyes snapped back to meet his. "Look, you don't know-" he started defensively.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Flack shouted. He was fighting to hold onto his temper; vicious when unleashed.

Danny's hands formed fists at his sides, and he stepped up to Flack, his eyes blazing. "You got no right to say anythin'. You don't know what's been going on."

"Obviously I don't." Flack spat. "Obviously I have no fucking idea who you are because my friend would never cheat on his girlfriend with a woman like that-"

Danny shoved his hand up between them to stop him. "Don't you fucking say anything about her."

Flack sneered. "Oh I'm sorry Messer, am I hurting your feelings?"

"Shut up," Danny pushed out, shoving Flack roughly, forcing him back a step or two.

For a moment, Flack paused, recovered from the unexpected movement.

Then he reached out, shoved Danny back. Hard. "You fucking-" He could see the change in his friend's eyes.

And it was on.

--

Stella walked out of the bar and into a brawl. Flack's right fist connected solidly with Danny's stomach and the man nearly doubled over in pain.

"What the hell is going on?"She shouted, sprinting as best she could in heels across the uneven surface towards the two men.

Flack looked up at her, his chest heaving with each breath he took. She had just enough time to see the blood on his face before Danny straightened, a fist swinging upwards in a vicious uppercut. Flack stumbled backwards, slamming hard into the brick wall of the bar.

"Danny!" Stella yelled, halting in something akin to shock.

The younger detective looked around and blinked as Stella moved forward again, positioning herself between the two men. "What the fuck is going on?" she demanded.

Danny responded to her glare by clenching his jaw. His glasses were lost somewhere, a buise on his cheekbone already forming to explain their absence. Flack, sporting a split lip, pushed himself off the wall and spat to one side.

"Ask him," he growled.

Stella turned back to Danny. "Danny?" Her tone brooked no argument.

He shook his head. "It's nothin'," he mumbled, turning away.

She shook her head, glaring at him. "That wasn't nothing." She turned back to Flack. "One of you tell me what the fuck is going on, or so help me-"

"He cheated on Lindsay." Flack interrupted her. "The asshole cheated on Lindsay with Rikki Sandoval."

Stella's head snapped back around to Danny and she turned to face him. "Tell you didn't Danny," she demanded, her voice low and hard.

He turned away, walking over towards the fence. "Danny-" she growled again.

Facing away from them, he stopped. "It's none of your fucking business," he spat.

He spun on his heals, glaring at the man behind her. "Just... mind your own fucking business and stay out of mine."

Stella took a step forward. "Danny..." She shook her head, incredulous. "You cheated on Lindsay with that kid's mother?"

He ran his tongue around his teeth and shrugged.

Stella breathed in and out, deep breaths. "You tell her, okay? You fucking tell Lindsay. Everything."

"Or what, you will?" he asked, his face a mask of defiance.

Stella nodded. "Yeah, I will. If you don't, I will. And you know I mean that." It was a promise, not a threat.

She turned. "Come on Flack," she said, taking a hold of the detectives arm and pushing him in front of her towards the bar.

At the back door, Flack already inside, she turned back around. Danny was where she had left him, his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched. "I'm disappointed in you, Danny," she told him.

Inside, the noise and warmth of the bar was like a smack in the face, making everything else seem unreal. Flack, looking even more disheveled and battered in the softer light of the bar than he did outside, was waiting for her a step away from the door, a serious look in his eyes.

Sighing, Stella pulled him over to a secluded corner of the crowded bar, away from where the rest of the group was still sitting on the other side of the room. Attracting the attention of a bartender, she asked for ice in a bag.

When it came she sat the younger man down, holding the ice to his jaw as he flinched. "Hold this here," she snapped at him, and his hand replaced hers.

He sighed, pulling the ice away from his face for a moment before placing it back. "Fucking idiot," he muttered.

She slid onto the stool beside him and, after waving down the bartender again, ordered a whiskey. They sat in silence while she waited, and then while she swallowed half the drink in one gulp.

"Why will you tell her?" he asked, breaking the silence between them. She looked over at him. "If he doesn't, I mean."

She chuckled mirthlessly. "Because if we know, and she doesn't, then that makes her a fool," she told him. "And she doesn't deserve that."

He tilted his head slightly, still holding the ice against his face. "Voice of experience."

"Mmm." She looked over towards their table, noticing Lindsay get up and head for the back door, a frown on her face. "She gets to know. She loves him, so she gets to know."

--

There have been a profusion of DL fics lately, but not many involving the effect of the events of Right Next Door on the people around them.

Let me know what you thought!


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